Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Yeah, fine,” I said. I glanced down at my watch. “We should probably head back.”
“Let’s do it,” Jonah replied, finishing off his beer. I chugged the last bit of mine, and we stood, brushing off as much sand as we could.
As we started walking back to the still-busy Miami streets, Jonah said, “Oh wait, you’ve still got a ton of sand on you.” And before I could wipe any of it away, Jonah’s hand came down on my lower back and brushed down and over my ass.
I stopped and let him clean me off. Every time his hand glided over the curve of my ass, a spark would light in my core.
“Your turn,” I said, turning Jonah around so I can examine him under the moonlight. He had done a way more thorough job of cleaning himself off than I did, but I certainly wasn’t going to let him know that. “Jeez,” I said, “I might as well call you Mr. Sandman.”
Jonah chuckled as I brushed off the few specks of sand still on his pants. I brushed from his ass down to his thighs, down to his calves, so that I was crouching behind Jonah as I cleaned him. And then I went back up, slowing my movement, opening my hands and letting them slide up Jonah’s legs, gently squeezing.
I got back up to my feet, and my hands were still on Jonah’s hips. He was facing away from me, but somehow, I knew what his expression was. I could practically paint it. His lips parted, his eyes half-lidded as my hands squeezed and pulled, pulling him toward me.
Our bodies were pressed together. I could smell Jonah’s shampoo in his hair. The salt of the ocean. The musk of his sweat.
An intoxicating mixture that had my cock getting rock hard.
And Jonah, to my intense surprise, pushed back on it. He must have felt my stiffening dick against his ass, and he… he fucking pushed up against me. My fingers tightened around his hips, and I took another whiff of his hair. I was quickly and irrevocably coming undone. My thoughts were in a blender and my body was on fire, my core calling out for Jonah’s raw touch.
I turned him around. Our eyes were instantly locked together. An entire lifetime’s worth of stories and words were shared in that loaded moment, as brief as it was.
And then, as our lips were slowly crossing the galaxy of space between us, as our worlds were on a crash course for a devastating collision, a pair of voices drifted our way and startled the crap out of us.
“This way, Billie!”
We jumped apart, clearing our throats and looking around, as if we were kids who were caught with our hands and feet inside all of the cookie jars. The voices belonged to a drunken pair who were running and tripping their way from the nearby street to the dark shoreline. One of them spotted us and started giggling, which set my cheeks on fire.
Thank God it’s dark out here.
“Let’s, uh, let’s head back to Stonewall,” I suggested, realizing we were standing in silence. Both of us most likely still processing whatever the hell just happened.
“Yeah… yeah, good idea.”
We walked the rest of the way back to the office in silence. I was beating myself up for making things awkward, but on the same token, there was a pull between us that needed to be explored. At least, I needed to try exploring it.
Shit didn’t work out; that was fine. We’d move on. Tomorrow was a brand-new day, and I’d help my new friend deal with whatever bullshit he was going through while also working on our crucial case.
I focused on tomorrow and tried to forget about the almost-kiss that would have shifted my entire world off its axis.
We reached Stonewall, neither of us dying spontaneously from the intense awkwardness. We headed inside and made it all the way to Jonah’s office when it hit me.
“I’ll lock up,” Jonah said, stopping at his door. It was then I realized I had no real reason to be here, especially not in Jonah’s office. It was something like twelve thirty; I should have been home and in bed.
The only real reason to be here was Jonah, and to think he was going to spend the night here… “Come crash on my couch for the night.” It was a simple solution to Jonah’s problem, although it could have some complicating consequences.
“Thank you, Fox. That doesn’t sound bad…” He seemed to consider it for a moment.
“No pressure,” I amended. “But I’ve got a really comfortable fucking couch.” I wanted to throw Jonah a lifeline. I could see he was in a state of complete upheaval, and I wanted to help.
“Exactly how comfortable?” He crossed his arms.
“Come over to find out.”